


A Straight Line

by yenseven



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 07:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19313695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yenseven/pseuds/yenseven
Summary: Endgame Didn't Need to be 3 Hours: A Brief Narrative Essay.





	A Straight Line

 

> “If in the first phase of your multi-film franchise you have a hot British lady who can bullseye a moving target through a car window with a low-caliber pistol, then holy shit, she should absolutely do that again.”

_\- paraphrased from Anton Chekhov_

*

**AVENGERS HQ, 2023:**

 

Steve Rogers was a soldier.

  
  
He had seen a lot of strange things that came close to being inexplicable. He’d seen himself transform from a sickly child into the once and future face of the American people. He’d seen nazis rise, he’d seen himself crash a plane into the ice, he’d seen himself awake decades later, he’d seen gods, monsters, and many people who were somewhere in between those, he’d seen nazis rise _again_ \- his least favourite thing he’d seen, really - and he had seen a few movies that had released during his time frozen which weren’t half bad.

 

But, before everything he’d seen, he was still a soldier. And therefore, he knew the best way between two objectives was a straight line.

 

He was an American soldier, for better or worse. Which meant if there wasn’t a straight line, you _made_ one.

  
  
So, when “time travel” ceased being a fictitious concept and instead the means through which they could right the wrongs of the Mad Titan Thanos, Steve wasn’t thinking about convoluted plots with multiple jumps through their collective history. The margin of error was too great, and sooner or later, they’d have to trade lives. He couldn’t allow himself those kinds of risks.

 

They could get all the stones in one place, and stop their enemy in one trip. He already knew how.    
  
*  
  
**LONDON, 1945:**   


“Peggy, it’s me. Yes, real- please put the gun down. Rogers, Steven Grant, U.S. Army. Born July 4th, 1920. Serial num - look, do you trust me?  I promise I’ll explain, but I need you to come with me. Also, this is my friend Natasha.”   
  
*  
  
**BATTLE OF WAKANDA, 2018:**   


In all the chaos of evacuating the city, engaging all the defenses, and getting people shields as Thanos approached, it made for an easy infiltration. No one would have thought to hang back at the palace to look for a stubborn super soldier and his highly-trained, ultra-efficient spy friend as they traversed the highest tower of the Wakandan palace, their additional ally in tow. Not even their five-years-ago versions of themselves would have thought of it, which is rather the point of tactical espionage time travel.

  
  
If Agent Carter was bewildered by her drastic jump through the ages and in awe of her surroundings in the modern day, particularly a hidden paradise kingdom, she didn’t show it. She was a professional. Rather, she listened intently to her briefing,

  
  
“You’ll know your moment when you see it,” Steve explained, before he reluctantly disappeared again.

 

The battle raged. Blood was shed. Peggy watched it all through the palace windows, opened just enough to accommodate the barrel of her weapon.

  
  
Many times, she wanted to take the shot, but knew which moment to look out for. She was trained. She had been briefed. So, she waited. Even when it hurt to watch, even when Steve and his allies were knocked down, she waited.

 

The opening arrived when Thor, the thunder god, with all the blunder and bluster to go with it, made his final move, flying forth in a rage and burying his weapon in the chest of the mad titan, ruining his gilded armor and drawing a rich violet blood from the wound. 

  
Sometimes, evil men were intelligent. They had to be somewhat so, to gain power in the first place. But evil men were also narcissistic, often more than they were intelligent.  And Thanos, an axe pressing into his heart and lungs and still choosing to take the time to taunt his foes, proved himself as such. 

  
He chuckled through the pain in his body. He lifted the gauntlet-clad hand, carrying all the power in the universe in it. And he gloated:

  
  
“You should have gone for the head.”

  
  
The next sound, for which those on the battlefield would be forgiven in mistaking for more thunder, rang out across the kingdom.

 

Some aspects of biology and anatomy are universal, even amongst alien creatures. The brain, for instance, will send messages to other body parts in order to prompt the desired movements in response. In the case of Thanos, after he spoke, his hand moved into position for a finger-snap that would have ended half the life in the universe.

 

However, Peggy Carter’s fingers and brain moved faster, and she pulled the trigger on an anti-tank rifle approximately the size and mass of herself, including in her good heels. As a result, by the time his fingers touched, he no longer had an intact brain to finish relaying his commands to his hand.

  
  
And as Thor felt the colossal round roar past his own head, and saw the shoulders-up of the greatest danger of the universe become a hot, sticky, pulpy stain over the lush, emerald plains of Wakanda, not the first time her noble ancient soil had tasted the blood of would-be colonizers, he swore on the gates of Valhalla that he would never eat grape jelly again.

 

Peggy worked the bolt on the rifle, ejecting the casing from her shot. The hot, spent metal clattered to the floor still smoldering. Her immaculate red lips smiled calmly.

  
  
“Oh, we did.” she said, knowing only she could hear herself; “I just needed you to hold still.”

 

Their leader lost, the rest of the Titan’s army either fled, yielded, or gave themselves permission to die on their feet. Meanwhile, the woman in the red coat on the ground made short work of the stones. Peggy decided she might like that one, and told herself they’d be introduced later.

  
  
She had no more time to dwell, as the door behind her opened, automated by the same technology that seemed to run the rest of the kingdom. Steve reappeared with the one named Natasha. He beamed in utter marvel, and for Peggy’s count, she struggled to keep her composure as well, but a moment later she considered, and frowned,

 

“I suppose this means it’s time for a return trip?” she said forlornly. Steve’s gaze finally broke from hers, his head hanging. 

  
Natasha interjected, “Not necessarily.”

 

“I should like to stay,” Peggy replied soberly, looking at Steve for a long moment. She turned her gaze to the red-haired woman,

 

“But I’m needed where - and when - I was. I gather the effects of The War are still felt today, are they not?”

  
  
“Yes,” Nat countered carefully. “But, let me ask: if you knew the thing you dedicated your life to defeating would return anyway, wouldn’t you want another chance at life? Because nazis are back.”

 

Peggy’s brown eyes illuminated, and she smiled again, her hand resting again on the stock of her massive rifle,

 

“As long as I can keep this.”   


 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay.
> 
> I didn't hate Endgame or how it ended. 
> 
> But, I think a movie involving time travel and cameos by Literal Queen Peggy Carter could stand to be more practical. 
> 
> Merry Christmas ya filthy animals.


End file.
